Tempest

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said upon reaching the table.

  He stood and gestured her to take a seat. “Your work ethic is admirable.”

  “Thank you.”

  She sat and he followed. Colt wasn’t sure where or how to begin the conversation, so he simply plunged ahead. “Your letters made me believe we’d be compatible.”

  “And now?” she asked frankly.

  He wondered how long it would take him to get accustomed to her blunt way of speaking. “Now, I’m trying to reconcile the woman I thought you to be from your letters with the woman seated here.”

  “They’re one and the same. I answered your letters truthfully. You never asked if I knew how to shoot.”

  She had him there, he admitted.

  She continued, “I was raised in Arizona Territory, a sometimes dangerous place. My sister and I were taught to carry a firearm for protection.”

  “By this neighbor?”

  “Yes. His name was Mr. Blanchard and by my Uncle Rhine, who insisted we learn. Mr. Blanchard was a dear and honorable man. He died recently. I didn’t appreciate you casting aspersions on what I may or may not have learned from him.”

  Her displeasure was plain.

  “My apologies for being disrespectful. Being shot tends to make a man short-tempered.”

  She held his gaze unflinchingly as if to remind him she’d already offered her apology, more than once. Colt found himself drawn to the determination she radiated. “What else did I fail to ask?”

  “What type of work I did.”

  He paused and studied her. “And that was?”

  “I drove the mail wagon from Tucson up country to the mining camps.”

  He stilled and wondered if he’d misheard her. “So, you lied about having attended Oberlin?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But—” He didn’t know what to ask or think. “And your uncle allowed this?”

  “Yes. It took me a while to convince him but he eventually agreed.”

  “But why would a well-raised woman want to do such a thing?”

  “It’s my adventurous nature I suppose. My sister, Portia, and I are both considered unconventional by the men back home. She enjoys working with numbers and handles my uncle’s ledgers for the hotel. I enjoy seeing what’s over the next hill, which is one of the reasons I responded to your advertisement. But as I said in my letters, I can also cook, set a proper table, and have impeccable manners. I speak English and Spanish. I hunt, fish, swim, and ride. I’d hoped to find a husband who’d view these qualities as assets, but if you’re seeking what society considers to be a proper wife who’ll defer to you in all things, and spend her days in a rocker with an embroidery hoop in her hand, you should say so and I’ll return to Arizona.”

  Colt blinked. He didn’t know any woman with the pluck to toss down a gauntlet so effortlessly. Adele had been a devoted tabby, but the sheer force of Regan’s fiery spirit made her more akin to a she-puma, both wily and untamable. Life with her would be neither easy nor boring, and as his sister stated, he could do a lot worse. “Would you come to dinner this evening and meet my daughter? I know she’s only a child but this will impact her as well.”

  “I’d enjoy that.”

  “If meeting Anna goes well and you’re still willing to accept my proposal, we’ll set a date for the wedding.”

  She responded with a soft smile and it seemed to fill the cloudy day with sunshine. Getting to her feet, she stuck out her hand. That threw him a bit, but he stood, took it, and was surprised to feel the calluses there. They shook, and she said, “We have a deal.”

  “Ask Spring to bring you over.”

  “I will.”

  A part of him was certain he’d lost his mind, but the agreement was made.

  After Colton’s departure, Spring stepped outside to join Regan and asked, “All’s well?”

  “As well as can be expected under the circumstances.” And she relayed what transpired and asked if Spring would drive her over for the dinner.

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake. What does she want?” Spring snarled.

  Regan turned to see an approaching buggy driven by a woman wearing a fancy green hat and a matching ensemble. “Who is she?”

  “Colleen Enright. Widow and local busybody. Probably stopping by to see what gossip she can pick up on you. In her mind, she’s more educated, well-mannered, and better dressed than any other woman of color in the Territory, and not afraid to voice it. Maybe once she gets a look at what’s inside all your trunks she’ll be so devastated she’ll move to the Klondike.”

  Regan smiled.

  The widow parked the buggy and stepped down. After adjusting her skirt, she paused, as if allowing the morning to view her and her attire approvingly before walking over to join them. “Morning, Spring. Is this Colt’s intended?”

  “It is.”

  The visitor extended a green-gloved hand to Regan. “I’m Colleen Enright.”

  Regan took the hand. “I’m Regan Carmichael.”

  Colleen looked Regan up and down. “Denims,” she voiced with disapproval at Regan’s attire. “You’ve already turned her into a hoyden, Spring. Shame on you.”

  “Hoydens of a feather, flock together.”

  The widow countered, “Colton is a well-respected doctor. His wife should be above reproach in both manner and dress.”

  Regan didn’t want to judge the woman, but couldn’t remember ever not liking a person within seconds of being introduced—other than Minnie Gore.

  “So, Regan. What an odd name. Where are you from?”

  “Arizona Territory.”

  “I see.”

  “And you?”

  “Originally Delaware,” she replied in the snootiest of tones. “My great-great grandfather was a Tory and fought on the side of the Crown against the rebels.”

  “He was on the losing side then?”

  The green eyes sparked with displeasure. “He went on to found his own mercantile.”

  “How nice,” Regan said.

  The widow opened her mouth to ask another question but Spring cut her off. “So, what brings you all the way out here, Colleen?”

  “I dropped Felicity at the school and since I was in the area, I thought I’d come by and extend a welcome to Colt’s intended. I adored Adele. She was such a lady. He was so devastated by her untimely passing no one thought he’d ever marry again. Did you really answer an advertisement he put in the papers?”

  Regan sensed the woman’s hunger for more details but didn’t take the bait. “Is Felicity your daughter?”

  “Yes, she just turned seven and she’s such a little beauty. Takes after her mother, if I may be so bold. The beaus will be flocking around her like deer to corn once she comes of age. Have you met Anna yet?”

  “No.”

  “Poor little thing. She’ll always be in my Felicity’s shadow.”

  Regan had had enough. Yes, the widow was a beauty with her light brown skin, straw-colored hair, and striking eyes, but the person beneath was a steaming pile of fresh horse manure. “Nice meeting you, Mrs. Enright. I have a few more chores to finish.”

  “But—”

  Regan headed for the barn and didn’t look back. Once there, she picked up the fork and went back to work. Her meeting with Dr. Lee claimed her thoughts. At least he was now speaking to her. Would all the accomplishments she’d ticked off about herself outweigh his concerns over her being so unconventional? She had no way of knowing. From his letters, she knew he cared deeply for his daughter. That his final decision rested on Anna’s opinion, spoke to that as well. A man who wanted to do what was best for his child was one to be admired.

  A short while later, Spring walked in. “Colleen’s gone.”

  “Good.”

  “She rubs me the wrong way, too. Always has.”

  “How long has she been a widow?”

  “Her husband, Erasmus, died fou
r years ago in a Rock Springs coal mining accident.”

  “His death had to be terrible for her and her daughter. How long had they lived here?”

  “Ten years. He came out here to be a schoolteacher, but the town didn’t have the money to pay him enough to live on, so he went to the mines.”

  “She doesn’t impress me as a woman who’d enjoy the lack of status tied to that type of work.”

  “She didn’t, and they struggled because she spent most of what he earned on gowns and hats.”

  “He must have really loved her.”

  “He did, but it wasn’t reciprocal. She was very dismissive of him. Complained openly that she didn’t have a fine house and constantly threatened to take Felicity and move back East.”

  “If she was so unhappy why’d she stay?”

  “Because she’s in love with my brother.”

  Chapter Four

  Colton spent the rest of the morning in his office seeing to patients like the buckskin-wearing Odell Waters whose gout had flared up again; Manx Solomon who’d learned last week the dangers inherent in drinking while using an axe—he’d lopped off the first digit of his right thumb—and Russ Neville who’d taken to drink in a misguided attempt to kill the pain in the infected molar he refused to let Colt pull.

  “Can’t you give me something?” Russ whined, holding his hand against his swollen whiskered jaw.

  “Yes, a pair of pliers so you can pull it out yourself since you won’t let me or Carl Goldson do it.” Russ was an old mountain man friend of Ben, and equally as stubborn. Goldson was the town dentist.

  “I ain’t letting either one of you pull it. It’s the last one I got back there.”

  “The infection is only going to get worse and it can kill you if it gets in your blood.”

  “You’re just trying to scare me.”

  “Yes, I am. Let one of us pull the tooth, Russ.”

  He stood up and wobbled a bit from all the drink. “No.” And he staggered out.

  Colt watched him through the office window that faced the street and saw him head towards the saloon behind Miller’s store. He sighed and hoped he didn’t find the old man dead soon.

  His next visitor was his boyhood friend, the sheriff. “Morning, Whit.”

  “Morning. How’s your shoulder?”

  “Stiff but healing.”

  Whit took a seat in one of the two empty chairs by Colt’s desk. “You going to marry Miss Winchester?”

  “She’s meeting Anna tonight. If that goes well, then yes.”

  “Good for you.”

  “And you say that, why?”

  “We all need a woman to shake up our lives.”

  “So, when are you going to find one to shake up yours?”

  “I’m still looking over the herd. Haven’t found the right filly yet.”

  “Colleen Enright is always available.”

  “Not for all the coal in Wyoming. Poor Erasmus. The way she treated that man, I wouldn’t be surprised if she paid someone to push him down that chute. Besides, she’s got her lariat out for you, or at least she did before Miss Winchester shot her way onto the scene.”

  “Even without Miss Winchester I had no intentions of giving Colleen my name or access to my bank account, small though it may be.”

  Colt saw Minnie Gore outside the window heading his way. He hoped his office would somehow become invisible so she’d pass it by, but she pushed the door open and stepped inside. At her entrance, Whit stood and touched his hat in greeting. “Miss Minnie. Colt, I’ll stop back later.”

  After Whit’s exit, Colt asked, “What can I do for you, Minnie.”

  “You cannot marry that Carmichael woman. She’ll be a poor substitute for my Adele.”

  Colt sighed inwardly. “Your advice is noted. Anything else?”

  “Are you going to send her away?”

  “If she gets along with Anna tonight at dinner, no, I won’t be sending her away.”

  “Then I need to be there, too. I’ll not have her poisoning the well where Anna’s concerned.”

  “You aren’t invited.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because this is between Anna and Miss Carmichael.”

  “Anna’s my blood.”

  “Mine as well and she needs a mother.”

  “She has me.”

  “I’m thankful for all you’ve done for Anna, and I know Adele would be pleased as well.”

  The crone’s eyes sparked with resentment. “I’m not enough? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “I’m saying, I’m thankful you were able to step in when Anna and I needed you most.”

  Her lips thinned. “I insist on being there this evening.”

  “No disrespect intended but this isn’t a debate, Minnie.”

  “You’re determined to blaspheme my Adele’s memory.”

  “No, I’m determined to do what I think is right for her daughter and mine.”

  She eyed him angrily. “Carmichael won’t be half the wife my Adele was to you.”

  “I need to get back to my work, Minnie. Thank you for stopping in.”

  They stared at each other like enemy combatants in war, until she snapped, “This is not the end, Colton Lee.”

  “Have a good day, Minnie.”

  She stormed out.

  Colton drew in a deep breath and silently applauded himself for not lashing out at her the way his temper demanded. Minnie tried his patience even on the best of days and the idea of him marrying again had been a bee in her bonnet since he began advertising for a second wife. It was his hope that she’d eventually accept the fact that he’d moved on with his life but she seemed unwilling to do so.

  He spent the rest of the day in relative peace; there were no medical emergencies, Minnie didn’t return, but thoughts of Regan Carmichael kept surfacing like the child’s game of peekaboo.

  The Paradise cemetery was an open stretch of land on the outskirts of town, and as Colt left his horse, he passed by graves marked with crude stones, weathered crosses, and others bearing no tribute at all. At the Lees’ family plot, he stopped before the gray slab atop where his mother, Isabelle, lay. He knelt to brush away the leaves and other detritus that had accumulated since his last visit and a familiar sadness took hold.

  He’d hoped becoming a doctor would give him the skill and knowledge he needed to save her, but her cancer had been incurable. The last years of her life had been racked with a pain that left her bedridden and him filled with an abject helplessness. By all rights, his father, Lewis Lee, should be lying in a grave beside her, but he was among the one hundred and seventeen men of the First Kansas Colored killed at Poison Spring in 1864. His remains were never found.

  Instead, beside her lay his wife, Adele. The cold granite marker bearing her name and her dates of birth and death was a sharp contrast to how warm and vibrant she’d been in life. It was her he’d come to the cemetery to see. He was on the verge of choosing someone to replace her and even though he still felt unsure about his choice, he wanted her to know that no matter the outcome, she would never be forgotten. In a way, he’d also come seeking reassurance. In spite of Minnie’s belief that a new wife would dishonor Adele’s memory, having Anna go through life motherless and without proper guidance would be more of a dishonor. She deserved the care and softness only a mother could provide, even one as unconventional as Regan Carmichael.

  “I’m doing this for Anna because it’s the right thing to do, and I know you agree.”

  He stood there for a moment longer; remembering, regretting, honoring, then after saying good-bye to them both, walked back to his stallion, August, and rode home.

  Ben had picked Anna up from school and Colt found her sitting on the back porch. “Hello, Anna.”

  She smiled. “Hello, Papa.”

  “How was school today?”

  “Okay. Mr. Adams gave us some sums to work on.”

  “Are they hard ones?”

  “No.”

  “There’
s a lady coming to supper today and I want you to let me know whether you like her or not.”

  “Why?”

  “If you like her, I may marry her so she can be your new mama.”

  Her brown eyes met his, and for a moment she didn’t say anything, then asked, “Is she nice?”

  “I think so.” He wished he knew what she was thinking.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Miss Regan Carmichael.”

  “Is she old like Aunt Minnie?”

  “No.”

  “Do I have to say I like her even if I don’t?”

  “No. I want you to tell me the truth.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly, I don’t want to get you a mama you don’t like. Mamas are very important to little girls.”

  “Felicity says her mama yells at her a lot.”

  “I won’t get one that yells at you. Promise.”

  “Okay. Will she live here with us?”

  “Yes.”

  She went quiet again.

  “Do you have any more questions?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know when she arrives.”

  She nodded and turned her attention back to the view.

  A terribly nervous Regan prepared herself for her dinner with Dr. Lee and his daughter. Would the child like her? Although Regan wanted her to, there was no guarantee. Removing her curling iron from the small brazier, she rolled it into her bangs. Once that was done, she gave her mirrored reflection a final look. Her hair was pulled back and coiled demurely at the base of her neck. In her tan, slim-fitting bodice and matching full skirt, she looked fashionable but not overdressed. Limiting her jewelry to a pair of small jet ear bobs, the color of which matched the small row of buttons on her bodice, she hoped to make a good impression.

  “Are you ready?”

  Regan turned to see Spring standing in the doorway. “Yes.”